“Call Righteous. Find out if there’s any trouble at the club. Let them know to be ready for trouble,” said Lord.
He headed back out to his bike, swinging his leg over the seat. Before starting the engine, he looked to Tarmac, waiting for an answer.
“No trouble at home, boss.”
Lord kicked his bike to life and had one destination in mind. Even if the VP had been screwing with his head, he’d feel better knowing Ally was safe. Maybe he’d change his mind and bring her back to the clubhouse for his peace of mind.
Only his headlights on the asphalt ahead cut the pitch darkness. There didn’t even seem to be a moon tonight. They were far off, no signs of civilization for miles. He couldn’t believe how unsettled he felt. For decades, he’d lived on a fine line of life and death. Nothing much gave him pause because he didn’t give a shit about himself or anyone else.
Ally changed everything.
He wanted to wake up tomorrow because she made him want more out of life. That girl would become his old lady. They’d make a family together. Lord would make sure his kids were raised properly so they didn’t turn out fucked-up like him as adults.
Lord took a breath as he rode, keeping up the punishing pace. He’d lived through countless disappointments, even came close to ending his own life on a few occasions. But he wouldn’t be able to come back from losing Ally. You couldn’t kiss the sunshine and return to the darkness unscathed. It would destroy him.
First, he’d kill every single Skull Nation and their families, but he probably wouldn’t stop there. Her death would turn him into a devil. And he’d welcome a bullet when his rampage was over just to end the pain. The way his life had panned out, he almost expected fate to steal her away from him.
Fuck, that hotel had been far out. Was that their plan all along? Lead him away from his woman?
As much as he didn’t want to announce Ally’s location in case that VP had been blowing smoke up his ass, he had to be safe.
Lord slowed down and pulled into a lookout point along the side of the highway. The other brothers joined him moments later.
Reaper walked up to his side. “What’s the trouble? Your bike?”
He shook his head. “You heard what he said. I’m not going to pretend everything’s good. I’m calling Rancher to be safe.” After pulling out his cell, he dialed his old friend. He hated the fact he could have put the man and his family at risk. It had never been his intention.
The phone kept ringing. It was after midnight, so he was probably sleeping. Or dead. Fuck!
Lord pocketed the phone, his chest tight. He was forty years old, and this shit couldn’t be good for his health. “Reaper, give the club a call. Ask a couple patches to ride out to Rancher’s place. It ain’t far. Tell them to do some recon, make sure everything’s on the up and up until we get there.”
“Will do.”
He headed back on the road, feeling somewhat relieved knowing things would be handled until he got home.
They’d been driving close to an hour but everything was becoming familiar now. They were close to Rancher’s place in the country. At least there was no fire in the sky. He wasn’t sure what he expected next to Armageddon. The night was just as dark out here as on the road. Rancher owned hundreds of acres, a mix of forest and farmland. It felt calm, like any other evening.
Lord smiled to himself as they neared the ranch. That VP was just messing with his head. Lord would have done the same thing if he’d been close to death at the hands of his enemy.
He wasn’t sure if he should let them sleep or wake the whole damn house just because he wanted to bring Ally home to the club. When he saw the faint light on in an upstairs window, he was glad for it. Someone was awake, so that meant he could steal his woman away without being a complete asshole. Maybe he’d claim her ass tonight. Make her his in every way. Just thinking about her aroused him. Imagining all those soft curves, warm and comfortable in bed, were calling his name. Sleep was starting to pull at him, but his determined focus and the cold night air kept him alert.
He slowed down and entered the winding front path to the house. No sign of the Straight to Hell MC. All must have checked out.
Reaper pulled up alongside him.
They all stopped their bikes within plenty of distance to not wake the entire house with the roar of their engines. “You called the club?”
“Yeah, they said they’d come do a round. That was a while ago.”
His headlights reflected off something metallic. There was one bike in front of the house. Maybe it was Rancher’s.
He turned off his Harley and walked toward the old farmhouse, his hand on the butt of the gun in his waistband. The dry grass crunched under each footfall. The light in the window went black. His hackles began to rise, and he sure as hell hoped his intuition was wrong.
There was another bike. Neither were from his club. He didn’t like this one fucking bit.
He nodded to his men to flank the house.
Brick came up beside him as they approached the door. They weren’t small men. He mouthed the count of three, then they both rammed the door with the sides of their bodies. It took two firm strikes, then it flew back against the wall with a crack.
The lights were out and Brick nearly tripped over a body in the foyer. He aimed a small flashlight on the floor. It wasn’t one of theirs. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad considering how quiet the house was.
“Skull Nation,” Brick whispered.
They proceeded deeper into the house. The glow from oven light highlighted another body, but this one started moving as they entered, so he instinctively drew his gun.
“Boss…”
He dropped down to one knee. It was Tank, his hands clutching his stomach. There was fucking blood everywhere. “What happened?”
“Skull Nation. They’re out back. The barn…”
“Shit! You’re going be fine, Tank. Hang on.”
Tank was one of the biggest guys in the club. A real force. He’d single-handedly gotten them out of a lot of scrapes with his sheer size and strength. As much as he wanted to call for backup or get him to a doctor right away, he had to clear this scene and find his woman first.
The party was apparently outside in the barn. If they’d put one hand on Ally, he’d kill them all nice and slow. They met up with the other brothers out back. Reaper had an automatic across his chest. The spotlight in the rear alley gave them a wash of light to see by.
He heard a scuffle coming from the barn, followed by breaking glass, so they all broke into a run. So many scenarios ran through his head. What if Ally was already dead? What if they’d tortured her? Raped her?
The Skull Nation was capable of anything.
Bullets rang out close to his ear. He hadn’t even seen the threat before Tarmac began firing beside him. Lord saw the opposing muzzle flash coming from the side of the barn. They scattered, firing back. The darkness and deafening gunfire created an atmosphere of pure chaos. He didn’t even know where Ally had been taken.
“Watch where you’re shooting,” he shouted out to his men. He ran in a crouch, getting as close to the barn as possible. With a forward kick, the old wooden door planks broke apart. A lone lightbulb hung from the ceiling of the barn, swinging back and forth from the commotion.
“Lord, in the first stall.” It was Rancher. He was on the ground, a gun in his hand as he covered him from the Skull Nation. Stump was behind a wall of hay bales, leaning to the side to fire deeper into the barn. Lord rushed over to join him.